This title is playful, of course. It is designed merely to attract curiosity and attention … It dates back to a childhood game of which I have forgotten both rules and stakes. An imaginary sovereign was roused from his indifference and responded with an approximate repetition of Marie-Antoinette's suggestion that if the people were hungry, food should be thrown to them. I took such caricatures of kings as anti-models, replacing bread with symbols. Now we are all too disturbed, individually and collectively, by the economic discomfort which is a generalized hunger and, in too many parts of the world and - not only in the third world - by actual famines, not to be aware, on a daily basis, of the responsibility it is to cultivate and transmit to others substance which is purely symbolic. Certain statistics, which now form part of our daily life, are capable of discrediting definitively the ivory tower which our universities are accused of representing, or of having represented in the past. In my own country, Canada, one child in five lives in poverty. The economic worth of the poorest forty-eight countries in the world is equal to the combined wealth of the ten richest individuals. There were twenty million refugees in 1997. One billion two hundred million human beings are short of fresh water this year, etc. This type of figure is, sadly, all too familiar. And it is a case of preaching to the converted to assert the extent to which culture, education and all their constituent disciplines are nourishment of a different order to physical food, because intellectual work is genuine work, providing a living for those who work at it professionally, and above all also those who benefit from its immediate and continuing fruits - i.e. ideally, the whole of society, and in all countries. In this respect - and this is implicit, but through depending habitually on what is implicit nothing is ever sufficiently explicit - it is generally acknowledged (thanks to UNESCO in particular) to what extent the development of economic resources is linked with the advancement and communication of knowledge, on a scale which is regional as well as national, within cities, rural communities, families.

For some years now the proliferation of new religious movements in Africa and the search by individuals for new meanings in belief have held the interest of scholars of religion. But their interpretations of the significance of these ‘religious flowerings’ raise a number of questions, in particular questions about the meaning and applicability of the word ‘new’ in religion. Instead of taking it literally, we should understand this religious ‘innovation’ on two planes of transaction with the sacred, the horizontal and the vertical. First, on the horizontal plane this religious innovation may be discerned in the ongoing adjustments made by traditional African religions as they encounter, whether peaceably or violently, religions originating in the West or Asia; these encounters have given rise to neo-traditional and prophetic movements and to independent Churches. We shall touch later on the two-way borrowings and adaptations that have taken place in some prophetic religions as regards their organization, rites, liturgy and charismatic communication of religious truth. On the other hand, religious renewal is discernible in the adjustments and innovative processes of elaboration adopted by such ‘travelling religions’ as Pentecostalism and Charismatic Renewal in relation to the basic process of making sense of the life of the individual and the community of the faithful.

In extreme situations such as war, genocide or refugee crises, anthropologists, who are usually closer to afflicted people than other scholars, face the crucial questions of the utility and responsibility of anthropology. However, anthropologists in particular are susceptible to the way of reasoning that concludes that anthropology as a science (or even as a technique or art) does not offer any answers to these questions. Some become engaged trying to help one way or the other, yet not as anthropologists, since they hold that as an anthropologist one is powerless to help …

The way human history has been perceived through the ages - by historians, theologians, philosophers, and ordinary mortals - is itself a topic for a historical study. Our attempt will be more modest, as we shall try to analyse some prominent examples of such perception. Our approach will be illuminated by the notions of the transient and the absolute, as they are attributed, in various ways, to the historical manifestations by historiographers and historiosophers.

As the last century of the present millennium is drawing to a close and the first century of the next one is looming on the horizon, linguistics and the fate of many of the 6000 languages on our planet is poised on a watershed, looking at a changing future.

‘What is important is to understand that every fact is already a theory. The blue of the sky already demonstrates the fundamental laws of chromatics. We should not look for anything behind these phenomena; they themselves are the theory’ Goethe, Maximen und Reflexionen, n. 575

Because of the density of the aphorism, the quotation above implies more than the words seem to say explicitly. It refers to an apprehension of reality in a poetic and conceptual mode, a vision of the world and humanity opposed to the mechanistic one that emerged from eighteenth century rationalism. Indeed Goethe is a milestone in the history of the themes inherited from ancient traditions and the Renaissance that have in common the project of integrating ‘the science of humankind, the science of nature and a study of the destiny of humanity through the adventure of existence’.

During the last thirty years both the social sciences and humanities in many countries have experienced a huge increase in student numbers, often directly related to national policies aimed at enlarging access to higher education for the majority of a generation. Although this evolution seems globally positive, it has also caused some specific problems within those disciplines, such as anthropology, which until recently led only to academic careers. In most European countries anthropological teaching has been predominantly research-oriented, that is rather than ‘knowledge-oriented’ like disciplines taught in secondary education. In this paper, after having recalled some aspects of the teaching of anthropology since the 1950s, I would like to propose certain arguments for a discussion about the aims and means of teaching social sciences in general and anthropology in particular in the coming decades. Given the actual ‘dis-ease’ about this topic, this debate seems to becoming more and more inevitable.

If, at the outset, we postulate the totality of Jewish thought and lay down the principle of its organic unity and its call to universalism, thus asserting the active solidarity which dominates its relations with Jewish religious and intellectual life in the Maghreb, if we state that both have a privileged interrelationship and use the same modes of expression, then we must add that Maghrebian Judaism is an integral part of the intellectual space, the cultural landscape and the civilization of the Muslim West where it was born, blossomed and bore fruit.

Boas, according to Harris, put the matter very succinctly: ‘Anthropology is a science, but science is history’. Malinowski sought a scientific definition of culture in his turn. In a posthumous text entitled A Scientific Theory of Culture, he offered a minimal definition of ‘science’ for the humanistic scholar, which would thus be differentiated simultaneously from abstract thought and from common sense.

Israel is a country of many cultures and languages and of several religions. The majority of the population adheres to the Jewish religion. The Moslem and the Christian religions come next in size, in that order. Similarly to many other countries in the region, religion fills a more central role in the public sphere of Israel than in most Western countries. It also influences the private sphere immensely, as for example in the matter of marriages and funerals which in most cases are conducted by state employees who have been appointed by the religious establishments of each of the official religions. We are thus discussing religion in a context where it matters highly. Power, welfare and the very right to reside in the country are connected with religion. Symbols of statehood and collective identity are lent from religious texts, objects and rituals. The symbol of the state, the seven-armed golden candelabra, suggests the memory of the temples of Solomon and Herod where a similar one was standing.

Scanning the corpus and repertoire of anthropological science, insofar as we wish and are able to, we note that ethnological observations and studies on theatre are not lacking, but that they seem to have been isolated opportunities for investigation that have never grown into a research tradition.

The twenty-first century is close at hand. This great historical turning-point demands that we contemplate the future as best we can. Confronting the third millennium, many disciplines, linguistics included, have reached a time to take stock. At this stage it is helpful to cast a retrospective glance on linguistics in China during the past half-century to evaluate the gains here at the transition between the twentieth and the twenty-first centuries.

With the new millennium approaching, to sketch the wider canvas of the state of art historical research at the end of the 20th century is hardly a realistic objective. For those who like to delve deeper into this matter, I heartily recommend Donald Preziosi's recent critical anthology, published by Oxford University Press, called ‘The Art of Art History’. Here you will find a survey of the major directions in art historical research since the days that Johann Joachim Winckelmann invented our profession, illustrated by appropriate texts chosen from over the whole period of the mid-18th to the late 20th century.

During the last century procedures for distinguishing between ‘human sciences’ and ‘natural sciences’ have seen a number of changes. Currently, the pre-eminence of the scientific-naturalist paradigm, which led the field throughout the nineteenth century, seems again under discussion on some fundamental issues. In particular, the boundaries between the two sciences - boundaries which were in no case rigid or absolute - are being tested, in a confrontation concerning the very statutes of both disciplines as well as their respective methods.

The Sai Baba movement, one of the most widespread and popular modern South Asian religious movements, owes its origin to a saint, Sai Baba of Shirdi (d.1918), who was probably born around 1838. Through his successor, Sathya Sai Baba (b. 1926), the movement has become a transnational phenomenon in the late twentieth century and has also expanded the main centers of its charisma, including today Shirdi town in the Indian state of Maharashtra and Puttaparthi town in the neighboring state of Andhra Pradesh. While most of the available literature is hagiographical in nature, some aspects of the movement have been studied - the figures of Shirdi Sai Baba and Sathya Sai Baba, the middle-class constituency of the Sathya Sai Baba movement, role of miracles, and the pedagogical role of movement, for instance. These studies are part of a growing interest in new religious and reformist movements in South Asia in the past century, their impacts on civil society and its institutions, and their relationships to the nation-state.

Dear readers, perhaps you have not realized it, but your lives so far have been spent in a period called ‘postmodern’.

The word is well-known to you. It has been around for many years. It almost always occurs unexpectedly, half way through an article, in the middle of a conversation, in the course of an argument on radio or television. Something, when all is said and done, is postmodern, someone is what he or she is because he or she is postmodern; a strange and inexplicable phenomenon can be explained as postmodern. This changeable, suggestive, authoritative term, which seems to allude to something precise and technical and which, at the same time, suggests the epoch-making, says all that is good and all that is bad of something. Postmodern is an accusation. Postmodern is praise. What is postmodern is degenerate, has got worse, is hardly serious, of low quality, a poor imitation, irresponsible, frivolous. Nevertheless, what is postmodern is also still more topical, even more modern, forward-looking, amusing and light, cultured without being boring, sophisticated without being elitist, complex without being obscure.

The discipline of anthropology was established in the 19th century to answer one major question, viz., Why are we different? The first answer was provided by anthropologists educated in the biological sciences, principally doctors and anatomists. With the establishment of the anthropological society of Paris in 1839, the first President, Paul Broca, declared in his inaugural address that the task of anthropology was to trace the long evolutionary sweep of humankind from its first appearing to the present. A second answer was provided by pioneers in the social sciences, including Sir Edward Burnett Tylor and Emile Durkheim, each of whom asserted that we learn to be different. Most anthropologists would agree that our differences are results of both our biological inheritance and our personal and social experiences.

Buddhism was not really known in the West until a little more than 150 years ago. Although since the thirteenth century there had been numerous contacts with local Buddhist traditions, the travellers and missionaries of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance had not yet brought to light the history of Buddhism and its unity across this immense diversity of worship and doctrine, disseminated through most of the countries of Asia. Of course, since the seventeenth century some Europeans had guessed at the Indian origin of the Buddha and they succeeded in pinning down his historical existence after a fashion. In 1691 and 1693 Simon de la Loubère, Louis XIV's envoy at the court of the king of Siam, published remarkable research which established the possibility of a link between the different regions of Siam, Ceylon, Japan and China and conjured up the possible existence of a single founder long before Christ. But this far too isolated knowledge had scarcely any impact in Europe. It was only with the foundation of the Asiatic Society of Bengal in 1784 that orientalism was to enjoy a rapid and decisive expansion. The word ‘Buddhism’ appeared from the 1820s onwards, and with it the first conceptualization of a tree with many branchings. But it was not until the publication, in 1844, of Eugène Burnouf's magisterial Introduction l'histoire du buddhisme indien, that more detailed knowledge became available, thanks to a critical scrutiny of the most varied sources. The works of the French scholar and of other pioneers in Buddhist studies - mainly Alexander Csoma de Koros and Edmond Foucaux on Tibet, Jean-Pierre Abel-Remusat and Stanislas Julien on China, Christian Lassen and Spence Hardy on Ceylon - were to give rise to a tremendous craze for Buddhism in Europe. Since then there has been no break in the successive waves disseminating it right up to the present day, when the majority of Western countries appear to be so receptive to the message of the Buddha that for some years the media have been insistently questioning the reasons for this ‘Buddhist wave’.